More Gained, None Lost
by Cordelia Rose
Summary: Sequel to Battle Scars. Post season 4 but before season 5. Merlin's been captured and is currently languishing in a rotting castle under the watch and torture of a vengeful enemy. Arthur and the knights of the Round Table are searching for him, but will they reach him in time? WARNING: graphic description. T for a reason. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

So, hey guys. This story is a sequel to another fic of mine called 'Battle Scars'. I suppose you could try to make sense of this without reading it but I recommend you go check it out first - it'll probably make a great deal more sense. With all that said and done, please enjoy!

/phr size=1 noshadep

"So where are we actually headed?" Gwaine asked in his soft Irish brogue.

Arthur finished attaching a saddlebag to his mount before turning to face the knight. The truth was, he had no answer. But he knew that wouldn't satisfy the knight; he was both concerned and angry, and he wanted his friend back, so a simple stated, "No clue," would only serve to infuriate him.

So instead Arthur only answered with, "We'll go to where we last saw Merlin, see if we can find any clues there."

For a moment Arthur thought that Gwaine was going to press him for more information. Instead, the knight shrugged and trudged off to his own stallion.

The king stared at him worriedly for a few seconds before glancing sideways and seeing Leon doing the same. They exchanged a short look full of unspoken meaning before going back to their supplies.

Once Arthur had tightened the last buckle he called out, "Listen up!"

Almost immediately, every knights' head snapped up to their king's. Not just out of loyalty, Arthur knew, or duty, but friendship.

Arthur proceeded to give one of the most heartfelt speeches he'd ever given. "I am your king; your leader; but also your friend. Merlin, to some, is just a servant. To me, he is more than that. Yes, a servant, but a loyal, giving servant at that. And a friend - perhaps the first true friend I have ever made. And I, more than anyone, should know a true friend apart from a false one. And to anyone who has properly met Merlin, they would surely agree that he is a great, great man.

"And I can promise you all something: we will get Merlin back."

He spoke with such conviction and love that, even though the odds were stacked against them, every man believed him.

/phr size=1 noshadep

They hadn't been riding for an especially long time when they came across a large body of water.

In the dusk, the water shimmered and rolled gently, and the pastel orange glow bounced off it in a way that no one could deny was beautiful.

Although they were desperate to find Merlin, the knights stopped for a moment and just gazed out over the rippling lake, each mulling over their private problems.

Arthur took the first step towards the edge of the lake, and once that tentative move had been made the others swiftly followed.

Once at the edge of the moving water, Arthur bent and scooped up a handful of the cool, clear water. He splashed his face with it, then rubbed his palms together to rid them of any dirt, finally dipping them in the water. Elyan was the first to copy his example, washing the dust and grime off his hands first, then his face.

Checking that no one was within hearing range, Elyan asked a question he'd wanted to for a long time, "How slim are the chances of getting Merlin back?"

Arthur inhaled sharply before answering. "Very. But if you asked anyone what the chances of a common-born man becoming a knight were three years ago, they would have said there was no chance."

"You made that happen, Arthur."

"So, I'll make it happen again."

Elyan started to respond but was cut off by Gwaine's yell of, "Arthur!"

Both men looked up. Elyan stared, dumbstruck, but Arthur rose to his feet quickly and sloshed towards the centre of the lake. Then he too, stood speechless.

Freya gave him a gentle smile. Shyly, she proffered her arm forward, and introduced herself, "I'm the Lady of the Lake - call me Freya."

Moving slowly, Arthur grasped her hand in his and bent to press his lips to it softly.

As she moved, she radiated a faint golden glow, and her skin literally shone, like she had flakes of sunlight embedded in every patch of skin.

"Arthur." Then, clearing his throat he continued, "We're looking for our friend-"

"Merlin." Freya finished. At Arthur's look of surprise, she shrugged. "He is a…friend of mine."

"You're friends with him? You know him?"

"Very well," Freya said, smiling. "We were slightly more than friends, once."

Arthur paused for a moment, unable to comprehend the idea of someone like _her_ fancying someone like _Merlin_. He hurried on. "Do you know how to find him?"

"Take the path you feel is best. You'll know where to go from there."

"Thank you…?" Arthur said, more than slightly confused.

Freya smiled again. Arthur turned to walk back to the others. When he reached the shore, he looked back but saw only the lake, looking as beautiful and serene as it did before.

Arthur opened his mouth, ready to ask a hundred questions, but then closed it again. He knew no one would have any answers.

/phr size=1 noshadep

Merlin hadn't really bothered to keep track of time, or of where he was going – or rather, being taken. His mind was slapped back into sharp focus, however, when he was shoved to his knees in front of a face he never thought he'd have to see again.

Morgana Pendragon, sitting regal and haughty on a stone throne, smirked happily down at him.

"Merlin," she said disdainfully.

"Morgana," he replied, voice positively dripping with disgust.

The witch studied him for a few seconds, then stood and strode towards him quickly. The shoes she was wearing were heeled, and every time she took a step they let out an ominous-sounding click.

She looked well – too well. Her face was deathly pale, as always, but there was a hint of colour outlining her cheekbones. She was still as slim as he remembered her being, but not unhealthily so. And there was no sign of the injury she was meant to have.

"I know," she said suddenly, crouching so she was at Merlin's level. "About your magic."

Merlin's brain went into overdrive. He didn't know what to say. What if Morgana was calling his bluff? Eventually he settled for saying, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Morgana laughed softly. It echoed around the shadowy room in an overlapping cacophony of chuckles.

Then, suddenly vicious, she snarled, "Don't play games with me, Emrys."

He refused to answer and stared at her with unblinking, icy eyes.

"Fine then," Morgana snapped, when it was obvious she wasn't getting an answer. "Have it your way. Men!"

Merlin felt his arms seized. He kicked out, which did nothing but have his legs restrained as well. His mouth was forced open and his nose pinched shut. A liquid, lumpy and thick, was poured down his throat. It tasted of nothing but as soon as it hit his stomach it burnt.

"Enjoy having no magic," Morgana cooed in mock-sympathy.

In between short breaths, Merlin gasped, "what – was – that?"

"Mutul. It's a poison; it will bind your magic like a rope. You'll find yourself without your precious magic. And Emrys will be nothing more than a pathetic serving boy."

Morgana sashayed away, yelling over her shoulder as she did, "take him to the dungeons!"

The henchmen bodily began to drag him out of the room. Merlin, too weak to properly resist, felt his consciousness slowly slipping out of his hands.

/phr size=1 noshadep

Cliffhanger! D: please review, constructive criticism is welcomed. Thanks to Autumndragon for her beta'ing.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey again guys! Thanks for the response to the first chapter - it's overwhelming! Thanks to all of you :3 Here's chapter 2 - thanks to Autumndragon for betaing again :)

* * *

"Gaius!" Gwen shouted, clutching at her dress to tug it up and jogging after the ageing physician. When he turned, she greeted him with a comforting smile and a reassuring hand on his sleeved arm.

"I just heard about Merlin – one of the servants told me," Gwen said, panting slightly. "How are you coping?"

"As well as one can expect, milady," Gaius replied stiffly. He turned back to the window he had been staring out of prior to the interruption.

"Really, Gaius."

Gaius still did not turn from the window, but said softly, "I love Merlin more than you can begin to fathom, milady." He hesitated before speaking again. "He saved my life before I even knew his name, did you know?"

Gwen shook her head wordlessly and Gaius chuckled softly, tears beginning to glisten in his eyes like morning dew on a blade of quivering grass.

"He has the best heart of anyone I have ever known, Gwen, and I swear to the Gods that if he has been harmed in any way"- he gripped the window's ledge a smidgen harder –"they will pay."

* * *

"Rise and shine, sorcerer," Morgana said sweetly. Merlin opened his eyes to see a bleary image of the witch standing behind bars. No, wait…he was behind bars. Morgana was on the other side, slim fingers wrapped around the poles and face split in half where she rested her nose against a bar.

Once she saw his open eyes, the smirk came. "Good morning." The smile turned cruel, lips twisting to the side lopsidedly. "Sleep well?"

"What?" Merlin slurred. He had a hammer beating against his skull and a dull ache that was situated in his stomach.

As a response, Morgana bent over, intentionally giving Merlin a glimpse the full way down the top half of her dress. It failed to draw his interest as she'd hoped, but she carried on regardless.

Straightening up, she hefted with her a leather bucket. The jerking motion caused a liquid inside to slop over the edge slightly and Merlin eyed it worriedly.

Seeing the direction and nature of his gaze, Morgana's smile became a thousand fold more meaningful. "Oh, don't worry," she purred insincerely, "it's only water. I thought you could do with a …wake-up call, if you like."

She took a measured step back and with aggressive precision chucked the contents of the bucket at Merlin. The cold water hit him with more ferocity than a rabid dog and he gasped with surprise. He shivered, his thin shirt sodden and providing no warmth.

"Well, come on," Morgana quipped, suddenly with a manic smile decorating her features. "Not going to let a little water defeat you, are we?"

The way she said 'you' was full of scorn, and that alone was enough to motivate him to clench his teeth but stand up and walk over to the cell's door.

"I'm not going to let anything defeat me, Morgana," he said. He glared at her with such conviction that her smile faltered for a second before coming back crueller and brighter than before.

"We'll see about that. Guards!"

* * *

"Put him there."

The guards deposited the squirming man on the stone floor. Morgana studied the soaking servant and then issued her men a command to "leave us," and sat on her throne carved out of wood.

"Who is Emrys?"

Merlin started, both at the sudden sound of her voice in the before silent room and at the words. "How should I know?"

"I know you know. And I advise that you tell me now.

When it was evident she wasn't going to get an answer, Morgana stood up. "I'm giving you a choice Merlin, Merlin." She took out a small dagger and twirled it experimentally. "You can tell me who Emrys is."

Grasping the hangle, she walked over to the crouched servant, "Or bleed yourself dry."

Merlin looked up and saw the dagger, but responded calmly, "Like I'd tell you."

The corners of Morgana's smile faltered as her frustration grew. She circled Merlin like a vulture focused on its prey. "The thing is, Merlin, I haven't forgotten everything about my past life. You were always so secretive. I know why now." She crouched down in front of him. "But that doesn't change anything." And resting the blade of her dagger on the nape of Merlin's neck, she whispered, "You will tell me who Emrys is."

"I don't know," Merlin said through gritted teeth. Morgana breathed deeply, trying to calm her anger, and dragged the dagger down slowly, leaving behind a line of blood.

"Such a pity," Morgana said, lifting the knife up and resting it at another point on Merlin's back.

With sudden viciousness, she swiped it across the pale skin. The line turned white and then red with blood, a few droplets spilling out and down across his back.

Merlin's face contorted and he bit his lip to stop any sound escaping.

* * *

"Guards! Take him to the dungeons!" Morgana called. She looked down on Merlin and smirked.

On his back was a carved pattern of intricate latticed lines. Each was deep and bleeding, but Merlin had not made a sound during the entire process.

"I admire your bravery, Merlin," Morgana said as her men walked in, "but I will break you."

* * *

The hooves made a noise akin to thunder as the group galloped through the woods. A few scattered logs were jumped over or avoided. When it became too dark to see the various rocks and wood, the group stopped, dismounted, and set up camp for the night.

"I wish we could keep going," Gwaine said absent-mindedly to Arthur, pushing stew around in a bowl with his fork.

"So do I, Gwaine," Arthur replied, staring into the fire like it held the answers to everything he wanted to know.

"I think we all do, Sire," Leon agreed, unpacking his saddlebag.

"We'll find him," Elyan added; Percival said nothing but nodded his agreement.

Looking around, Arthur silently thanked them all, and thanked his luck for having such loyal friends.

* * *

Review? 


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_Warning/s: Bit of torture. Not much._

_A/N: So…guess whose school is going to see The Tempest at the Globe, which Colin Morgan is acting in as Ariel? _

_ARGGH OMG SO EXCITED_

_And now that that's over: thank you so much for being so patient! School's being hectic and life is being a bit iffy right now and I have basically no time to write anymore; it takes me about a week to write a chapter this length because I do it in bits whenever I have the time. So yeah, it might be a while…sorry!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or anything to do with it._

_Quote for the chapter: "To me, the meaning of life is to be happy; it's to achieve happiness right now. It's to make sure you're happy in the future, and that generally when you look back on your life, you're like: yes, that was satisfactory." – Dan Howell (a.k.a. danisnotonfire, The Meaning of Life)_

When Merlin panicked, he had a system. He'd developed the system when he was young and used it often. The system was to catalogue everything around him, one by one. It helped him to stay grounded.

So when he was thrown down in front of Morgana with his hands bound that was exactly what Merlin did.

Sight – Morgana, wearing a revealing dark purple dress and a menacing smirk. A dark, cold, stone room, with no furniture.

Smell – something metallic that was probably blood. Morgana's general reek of insanity.

Hearing – a leak in the roof that was causing a slow dribble of water to land with a splatter on the hard floor. Heavy breathing – his and Morgana's.

Taste – blood, both fresh and the slightly more metallic old stuff.

Touch – the harsh ropes on his wrists. The coldness of the floor seeping into his skin through his thin trousers.

He calmed slightly, though not by much. "So good of you to join me, Merlin," the witch chuckled. "Tell me," she carried on, slowly ambling towards the manservant, "what brings you out here? Could it be destiny," she yanked his chin up so his eyes met hers, "by any chance?"

Merlin refused her the luxury of an answer and sought to keep his face impartial to everything, although inside he was a jumble of emotions.

Morgana evidently wasn't satisfied with that answer and continued, releasing his face, "Answer me this, Merlin," she put an Arthur-like spin on his name, "who's Emrys?" She squatted down to his kneeling level and curled her arms around her knees. The only thing obscuring Merlin's view most of the way down the top half of her dress was his own stubbornness. "I've heard words and rumours that you're Emrys," Morgana practically cooed. "But that's just ridiculous, isn't it? You would never let countless people die just to keep your little secret safe, would you?" She regarded Merlin coolly for a few seconds. "You'd be just like me then."

Abruptly she straightened up and backed to a few feet away from him. "The other alternative," her voice was suddenly a lot colder and more business-like than before, "is that you know who Emrys is. So which is it? Are you, or are you not? And if you're not, who is he?"

Merlin looked her dead in the eye, something he'd realized to be quite unerring to his unfortunate enemy. "I know…nothing."

"I know you know!" Morgana shrieked. Her hands automatically went to her hair and she tugged at it, then flung it over her shoulders and faced Merlin, chest heaving with the exertion. "You will tell me Merlin. You will."

Merlin shrugged to the best of his ability (it was quite a hard thing to do with restricted hands). "I don't think I will, actually."

"Then I'll make you." An insane light had entered Morgana's eyes and she smiled manically. With the bright red lipstick that she had smudged across them, it seemed more like the painted on smile of a wooden doll than an actual threatening or remotely scary gesture.

"Beran sames!" Morgana cried, accompanied with a wild flung out palm.

Merlin coiled in on himself with the worst pain he'd ever experienced. There was a pulsating pressure in his skull that made it feel like it was about to explode; every nerve was screaming out in white-hot pain. His arms were on fire; so were his legs. His organs were rattling around inside of him, consumed by a temperature that was both achingly cold but dreadfully hot.

White hot lashes whipped across his eyes. Merlin closed his eyes, only to find that the action worsened the effect. He breathed deeply and began to list the senses.

Sight – black, from his closed eyelids. Ribbons of light that occasionally would dance into the otherwise unmarked abyss.

Smell – a lot more blood. Was he bleeding?

Hearing – Morgana laughing. The ropes on his wrists straining to hold him as he struggled. His own quick, shallow breathing. The leak in the roof.

Taste – saliva. Blood. Panic.

Touch – the ropes on his wrists that were digging in much more now. And now that he thought about it…a lot more coldness.

He refused to cry out, or scream. He would not. He would not break under Morgana.

Seeing that her tactic obviously wasn't working, Morgana tried again. "Feolan hige!"

The pain abruptly stopped but pins started to poke at his brain. They began to unravel it, strand by strand, picking his mind apart until they found the answer they wanted.

"It's-"

"Go on," Morgana said eagerly, raising her hand and clenching it into a fist. The pain magnified tenfold and Merlin groaned.

Merlin felt certain he was going to shout it out, and bit his lip to restrain himself. It started to bleed but he didn't notice. Eventually, when he felt he really couldn't hold it any longer, he muffled his voice by shoving his face into his sleeve. "It's me! I'm Emrys!" Fairly satisfied that

"Ætstandan," Morgana said, satisfied but slightly mystified.

Merlin glanced up and saw the witch striding towards him. "I have to admit, Melrin, I do admire your bravery. Very…touching."

"Thank you," Merlin said, mock-polite.

A flicker of annoyance reared up in Morgana's eyes but just as quickly as it came it went. "I have a treat for you, actually, for being so courageous."

"Really?" Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"But of course." Morgana smirked; he didn't trust that smirk.

Before Merlin could react, Morgana leaned in and crashed her lips to his. At first, he was too shocked to do anything apart from wonder _what the hell is she doing_ but after a few seconds, he pushed her away with great difficulty, considering his hands were tied and clumsy

Morgana laughed; a menacing thing that ricochet off the stone walls. Her lipstick, smeared across her cheek, glistened in the firelight like blood. Her messy, uncombed hair and pale face only added to the effect; her cackle froze its way into Merlin's skin and shudders possessed him, petrifying him.

_A/N: Thanks to Autumdragon for the beta. _

_Reviews? Pretty please?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

_Warning/s: A bit of pain description. Gwaine…just Gwaine._

_A/N: Right. I meant to mention in the last chapter about how this story ISN'T Mergana…but guess who keeps forgetting to put stuff in her author's notes?_

_***facepalm***_

_And I know this is really short, and you guys do deserve better, but the one after this is pretty long, and you can't be too mad at me because…_

_IT'S MY BIRTHDAY :D_

_So there. You can't be mean to the birthday girl._

_So, in the traditional Hobbit style of giving away presents on your birthday, here is chapter 4…_

_Disclaimer: I so totally own Merlin…series 5 on DVD. Guess who got it today from her grandparents?_

_Quote for the chapter: "Nothing says I came here to win…like jazzhands!" Josh Ramsay, lead singer of Marianas Trench and all-time awesome person._

A crippling pain shot through his stomach like a bolt of lightning. It left behind a trail of poisoned fire, slowly burning him from the inside out. The flames licked at his brain, boiling it until he could no longer think straight. Cramps started in his lower legs and fingers; his arms began to seize up and refused to move where he commanded them.

Morgana watched him writhe with a smile that gave him the final clue he needed.

"Your lipstick," Merlin gasped. "It's poison?"

"Not lethal, so don't fret," Morgana cooed. Her smile vanished and her face became emotionless once more. "Just so painful you'll wish it was lethal." When he failed to respond, she quipped, "Have nothing to say?"

Merlin couldn't find the strength to make any kind of retort.

Upon seeing that she failed to get anything from him, Morgana called in annoyance, "Guards! Take him to the dungeons." She exited the room, calling over her shoulder, "Don't be afraid to be too rough."

LINE BREAK

"Merlin!" Gwaine called, sprinting up to the servant in terror. "Hide me!"

The startled man replied, "What? Why? Gwaine, what have you done?"

"I may or may not have dyed the King's ceremonial shirt bright pink…"

Merlin sighed in exasperation. "Gwaine…" He rubbed his hands over his face and then groaned in defeat. "Fine. I give up." Juggling the two trays he was holding so they were both balanced on one arm, he grabbed an empty wicker basket and slid it down to his elbow, then picked up a bundle of herbs lying on a table in the kitchen. "Follow me."

"MERLIN!" Arthur yelled, stomping into Gaius's chambers with a wad of bright pink material thrown over his arm.

Merlin turned round with an innocent expression on his face. "Yes, sire?"

Arthur eyed him curiously and then said, "Have you seen Gwaine, by any chance?"

"No…why, what's he done?"

"Dyed my ceremonial shirt pink, and we have those nobles arriving in less than an hour. Sort it, will you?" Arthur didn't wait for a reply and threw his shirt at Merlin's face.

"Of course, sire," Merlin called after him as he stormed out back into the corridor.

"That was close," Gwaine laughed, clambering out of one of the many barrels and casting oats all over the floor.

"If Arthur finds you before I've managed to fix this," Merlin warned, "you will die. Death will occur."

"Which is why he won't. Cheers, Merlin!" Gwaine said jovially, heading towards the door. He opened it to find Arthur about to enter again, and paled.

"Gwaine!" Arthur yelled, backing Gwaine into the room.

"Thanks for everything, Merlin, but I've gotta dash!" Gwaine dodged past Arthur and out into the castle.

LINE BREAK

The pain had subsided to a dull, throbbing ache in his stomach. It was constantly there and constantly painful but at least it was not as strong as it had been.

For Merlin it was a tolerable pain and more of a nuisance than anything else. At least he could bear to move and think now.

_A/N: Review please? *bats eyelids* Especially because it's my birthday! You know, grand old age of 14…I need to start doing stuff with my life now, I'm seriously having an existential crisis._

_Thanks to my lovely beta :)_


	5. Chapter 5

Holy shit. I am an awful person. Basically, there was a mix up with my beta - I got a new email address and it just slipped past her, and then when I did get it back my life suddenly got hectic and then my internet was spotty and I'M SORRY I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON PLEASE SAY YOU STILL LOVE ME

But yeah, that's why it's been so long. It won't be this long again - I'm not saying it will be up soon, but not like two and a half months later.

In other news, I finally got round to reading Life of Pi. If you've read it too, I would like to ask one thing: what do the meerkats on the island represent?

«««««««»»»»»»»

"Hold up," Gwaine said suddenly. He leant back in his saddle, pulling on the reins gently. His mount swayed to a halt and began to tear at a small patch of grass and weeds, snorting when a fly flew too near to her eye. Gwaine dismounted easily and made his way to a thorny bush, patting his mare's neck briefly as he did.

He crouched down by the small nest of brambles and began to pick his way through, protected only by his weather-hardened leather gloves. One snapped back into his face and trailed a thorn down his cheek; he registered it with a hiss of pain but carried on regardless, digging further and further until he had reached the roots.

The others had likewise halted their rides but only Arthur had dismounted. He had stood by his stallion for a moment, holding the reins in a firm grasp and stroking his muzzle in an effort to calm down the flighty beast.

When Gwaine's elbow began to disappear into the thicket, however, Arthur looped the reins over his stallion's noble head and passed them to Leon, who accepted them with a stern grasp. Arthur ducked under the reins and weaved through the other steeds, careful to keep his cloak tucked close to his person so as to not startle the horses.

"Gwaine?" Arthur asked uncertainly. The knight ignored him and carried on with his meticulous search, uprooting a couple of branches and tossing them behind him. They hit his chestnut mare on the foreleg, who whinnied indignantly, kicked a few times, then pawed the ground. Normally any one of these things would have attracted Gwaine's attention, but he paid no heed and continued digging. Arthur's mind registered that as a warning sign – of what, he was not exactly sure.

He laid a careful hand on Gwaine's shoulder. The knight shook it off irritably. When Arthur repeated the gesture, the knight spun round and drew his sword. Shocked into action, Arthur did the same and barely blocked the blow that would have sliced through his shoulder.

The two became locked in the deadly dance of a duel. They circled each other, Gwaine like a wolf stalking its prey, Arthur confused and reluctant to injure his knight, stepping almost perfectly in unison. Arthur's sword was raised upwards slightly; if thrust forwards, it would slip straight into his comrade's heart. In a similar fashion, Gwaine's was poised to slit the king's throat.

With every step, some of the fire went out of his eyes. By the time they had completed five full circles, the other knights' eyes wide and held tensely on the moving figures, Gwaine's arm sagged and his sword dropped to the floor, as if it were made of pure lead and was too heavy to bear.

"Arthur…I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry…it was like some demon was grasping a hold on me…"

Unseen, from behind a grainy, solid trunk, Morgana Pendragon lurked. Half of her body was cast in shadows; the other half was tense but her lips were curved up into a triumphant smile.

«««««««»»»»»»»

"It's a maze."

Merlin couldn't see the point of this. He'd managed to snatch a few hours of sleep in between the tortuous cramps of his stomach and now. 'Now' being Morgana dragging him outside of this bloody castle, right at the entrance of a maze.

It looked fairly simple; it was, as most mazes are, constructed of hedges. They were a varying green colour, ranging from a light sickly yellowish lime to a deep mossy hue. They had a strong, earthy smell. It was so potent that even in the shallowest of breaths, Merlin's nose detected the musky scent.

"I know it is." He frowned at his captor. "What's this for?"

Morgana smirked. "It's both physically and mentally exhausting. If you reach the other side within an hour, I'll let you go."

Merlin glanced at her. Her eyes were still gleaming with insanity, but held also a glint of honesty. Should he risk it? What Morgana said was true - in his already debilitated state, the maze would serve only to weaken him. However, if he was quick (and he knew he was intelligent, despite the constant insult of "Idiot!" he received from Arthur), then he could return to Camelot, and possibly be able to shed some more light on the situation of Morgana to Arthur. If he didn't make it out - then it was the same treatment as before, there was no extra penalty for not making it out in under an hour. What do you have to lose?

Merlin set off at a stumbling run.

«««««««»»»»»»»

Thanks to Autumdragon for the beta.


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